


All Different Kinds of Hot

by roebling



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-13
Updated: 2009-08-13
Packaged: 2017-10-23 03:00:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/245552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roebling/pseuds/roebling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was inspired by a comment I randomly saw while looking for Spencer picspam. It is also inspired by my deep and abiding love for Spencer's pudge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Different Kinds of Hot

Spencer's belly is soft and when Brendon lies on top of him on the couch, it makes an awesome pillow. He's pretty happy about that, and about Spencer generally. He even loves the things about Spencer that he didn't think he would, the things that Spencer doesn't even always love about himself. He loves the pale skin hiding under Spencer's too-tight shirts. He loves that Spencer feels substantial when Brendon hugs him. He loves that Spencer doesn't hesitate to eat dessert if he feels like it. He really loves that Spencer lets his belly jut out over the waistband of his pants. His tummy is curvy and tempting and sometimes Brendon has to bite his lip to keep from petting it if they're in public.

Yeah. Brendon's into it, even though he had no idea he would be. But he knows Spencer isn't, maybe, because he'll get a little weird if Brendon's too obvious about it. Sometimes Brendon will lay Spencer out on his back and he'll gently bite the bit of spongy flesh on Spencer's upper arms and the soft bulge of his belly. His skin is impossibly soft. Spencer never says anything or tells him to stop, but he stares up at the ceiling and won't meet Brendon's eyes, which sucks. He loves Spencer's body like this. He hopes Spencer loves it too.

The weather gets warm and they decide to take surfing lessons. Surfing! Brendon expected to be terrible, but he is not bad, and neither is Spencer. They both actually are kind of good, shockingly. Prior to this, Brendon's most athletic pastime was jumping on the trampoline in his parents' back yard. Anyway, they spend a lot of time at the beach, and a lot of time with the dogs, and a lot of time keeping busy. They have to, or else Brendon will think about the band and about Ryan and Jon and what went wrong and what the announcement will be like and wonder if people will hate them or if people will hate Ryan and Jon and how neither option is fair, neither is right, but the status quo wasn't working either. When he gets in those moods Spencer smiles at him and says it's okay that he's worried. Spencer says that it will all work out. Brendon always believes him.

Because they're outside so much Brendon gets really tan and Spencer gets tan and freckly. Brendon loves his freckles. He never realized Spencer was so speckled. When he tells him that Spencer frowns in that way that means he's trying to keep from laughing and punches Brendon in the side. In April they go to the Blink tour shindig but it's weird without Jon and Ryan, and doubly weird because they haven't made the announcement yet. Still, nobody asks where Jon and Ryan are. In the hotel that night, in bed, Brendon mashes his nose into Spencer's shoulder. He smells like suntan lotion.

"It's really just us now," Brendon says.

"Yeah," Spencer says.

"I don't ... You're not going anywhere, are you?" Brendon asks.

Spencer laughs. "It's not just us," he says, his voice low. "It's us. Where would I go?"

"Hawaii," Brendon says. "To pursue a career as a professional surfer."

Spencer snorts and rolls his eyes. They flash even in the dark.

"Seriously," Brendon says. "You could be the next Kelly Slater."

Spencer shakes with silent laughter and Brendon falls asleep grinning.

It is the best spring of his whole life. They spend many days at the beach. They take the dogs running in the evenings. In the back of his mind Brendon knows the tour's coming, and the announcement, but he wants put these precious months on repeat. He buys a hibachi and they grill tuna and red onions and peppers and drink mojitos on the porch. He writes a ditty with no lyrics that he calls the Spencer song and hums it constantly for a week, until Spencer is so annoyed he sleeps in the bathtub one night, even though Brendon sits outside the door and warns him it's a fire hazard to sleep in a room with a locked door. They hang out with Pete and Ashlee and little Bronx. Brendon asks Spencer as they're driving home if he ever wants to have kids. Spencer eyes go soft and his voice is thoughtful. He does, he says. With the right person, he does. If it didn't terrify him, Brendon might dare think about a future.

They have a lot of sex, too, of course. They're dudes in their twenties, so that goes pretty much without saying. And sex with Spencer is really awesome, especially because the surfing makes him strong, strong enough to hold Brendon's weight, and his shoulders are crazily broad. Brendon has been noticing Spencer's shoulders, and his collarbones, and his forearms, and the way the sun laces his dark hair with tiny threads of gold. Spencer wears summer well. It doesn't even seem logical that Brendon has such a hot boyfriend. He must have been a monk in a prior life.

They shoot a video for the new song, and Spencer cuts his hair and trims his beard. Brendon isn't going to complain because he likes Spencer's face -- he wants to see as much of it as he can. His new hair cut looks good, too, and it makes Brendon want to kiss the points of Spencer's jaw. He gets a new suit. They both get new suits actually and Brendon totally is in love with his. He is so glad he does not have to dress like a hippie any more. He will never wear paisley again in his entire life. But Spencer's suit wins a prize, because he looks so good it might be illegal. When Brendon wasn't paying attention Spencer's hips got all slinky and his torso got all loooong, and if Brendon strips him in the dressing room after shooting's wrapped for the day he cannot be blamed.

They go home. Spencer sets the alarm and in the morning they wake up and take their boards down to the beach. Spencer makes sure Brendon wears suntan lotion. He does Brendon's back for him, and the press of his fingers is a balm. The waves are not great, but they stick it out until one o'clock. Then Spencer says the part in his hair is getting sunburned. It is a wonderful day. On the way home Spencer stops and buys Brendon a pineapple-banana-strawberry smoothie. Brendon drinks it too quickly and gets a head freeze. He makes Spencer rub his temples. They go home and Brendon lays down on the couch. The sun makes him sleepy. Spencer scoots him over and sits down. Brendon grumbles and shifts and drops his head in Spencer's lap. He pushes up Spencer's shirt and kisses his navel, but it's not the same.

"You're not squishy any more," Brendon mumbles.

"Is that a problem?" Spencer asks.

"Nnnh," Brendon says, because it's really, really not. Spencer stomach is flatter now but Brendon can feel the muscles sift as he sits up a little. "I liked it."

"Come on, Brendon," Spencer says. "I was ..."

"No, I liked it a lot," Brendon says, insistent.

Spencer makes a grumpy face.

"It was ... nice. Soft. You." Brendon says. "I like this too. I even liked when you looked like a girl. That was hot. You are a chameleon of hot."

Spencer throws his head back and laughs. Brendon would like to lick the long line of his throat, but he doesn't want to get up. He is warm and content.

"You are a chameleon of dorkiness," he says, working his hand through Brendon's hair. "But it's okay. I like you."


End file.
